Rules to Die By
by bemusedkittykat
Summary: Her name is one of only things that is still hers; a name, her companions, and a will to living-something to be held tightly too. Stumbling across one so little and scared, she finds herself detoured from her own mission. Now, to reunite a scared child and a missing mother, and secretly, a debt to collect. Eventual Daryl/OC. Featuring other pairings as well, DEVIATES FROM CANON. AU
1. Chapter 1 :: Getting By

**Disclaimer:: I unfortunately do NOT own the Walking Dead of its characters. I do however own all non-Canon additions to this fic and some of the plot. **_**Loosely follows Canon but will deviate greatly from both the Comic and TV Series Plot.**_

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**Chapter One: Getting By**

_Things weren't always like this. It wasn't always kill or be killed. Though I guess in a way it actually was. It had always been a different kind of death though. _

_Not really literal. _

_No real bloodshed. _

_Political._

_Societal._

_Emotional._

_I mean sure, there was actual death… all of the time to be honest but it all had a different meaning then… ending someone's life. There were so many ways to do it. _

_But now… _

_Now there was only one sure way to end it all. _

_You had to hit the head._

A single stone kept the leather bound book open to this page. A place marker to remind its writer to return and finish the entry before night fell, before it was too late to complete her thoughts. The writer knew that time was one of the most valued things in the world now. Though to many it seemed that there was nothing but time—she knew it was the exact opposite. Time was short. And now, life was even shorter.

She understood all too well how different the world was, each entry she wrote showing that concept more and more. It wasn't odd to imagine the world before; it was more common than imagining the future.

The camp was quiet, much like the world. Not a single sound heard for miles around her except the slow dying crackle of the fire at the center. She had set up a decent temporary base, had picked a spot between a handful of tall trees with low branches, perfect for climbing—perfect for hiding. She looked down at her fire from her post in the north-east tree before looking back out at the surroundings, only a couple hundred feet from her camp she could see her two companions hunting after what appeared to a pair of very plump rabbits, something that wasn't seen all too often in this neck of the woods.

Food would become even scarcer as time progressed and it seemed that wildlife was taking a similar path in some parts of the country. A bit early for the woman's liking but it wasn't exactly as if she had a choice. Some creatures were fattening up, but others, it seemed that they were being eaten quicker than they could breed, much like the human race when one thought of it. The girl watched her dogs closely, releasing a slow sigh. She hadn't seen another human in about a month now. Hell if it weren't for that diary she kept, she would think it had been even longer than that. Time was a relative concept that she was hard set on keeping track of.

She tore her eyes away from her companions as they took down their respective prey. With a slow shaky breath she climbed down from her post and made her way to the camp's center, stroking the fire back to life with a nearby stick. Paying strict attention to her surroundings but hearing no sounds beside that of the crackling wood.

Her companions had learned to make as little sounds as possible, she hadn't heard them join her back at camp, but had instead felt them brush against her in turn. She looked up from her fire and smiled at each of her dogs. "Catch something good then?" she asked them, often speaking to the pair as if they were human. "Better eat up," the young woman said motioning for the dogs to take a place near the fire to eat, they understood the woman quite well and curled their bodies close to the fire's heat, soaking in the warmth as they tore into the fur covered flesh of the rabbits they had spent the last ten or so minutes chasing.

As much as she had grown used to watching flesh be ripped from bone, it was not a site she particularly enjoyed observing. The woman looked over her shoulder in the direction that they had come from; three strings of cans lay at various heights swaying ever-so-slightly in the wind. Not enough to make noise but enough to catch her attention.

"We'll have to pack up when you two finish chowing down. I think it best we got back to the van don't you?"

The canine closest to her looked up, licking the blood from his face he nodded his large head just once, a motion that the woman took for what it meant. The canine was agreeing with her. Some would call her crazy, but she knew her dogs understood her fully. They were well trained before all this in varying areas of expertise.

The male, a pure Belgian Malinois, bred from two police dogs and then trained as such himself. Named after the Norse God and _Marvel_ superhero, Thor had been her brother's dog, a part of the family since it was six weeks old. "You're table manners need work there boy," she said with a shake to her head as the dog's tongue continued to attempt to rid his muzzle of the blood that was dripping from his black fur. His tan coat was only disrupted by the black mask that encompassed his face and ears and the tip of his tail. A great contrast to the coat her other dog sported.

Her own, a Belgian Malinois-Belgian Groenendael mix had a pure black coat with a single white patch of fur on the tip of its left ear. With the disposition of a Malinois and the looks of a Groenendael, the female of the pair had been everything the woman had wanted out of a herding dog; beautiful but efficient. She had trained her dog to not only help around the ranch, but to help her when she went hunting as well. Both dogs were exquisite trackers and oddly enough made an impressive team with one another. Before the world fell, the pair would often track and herd stray cattle back to the ranch before either sibling knew they were missing in the first place.

"Beatrix," she called in a whisper catching the attention of the dog she had raised since it was only a puppy. Beatrix looked up from her rabbit and cocked her head to the side at her owner. "You think you'll finish tearing into that anytime soon?" she teased the dog lightly.

The mix gave a soft bark before digging back into her rabbit. With an amused shake to her head the woman scanned the area once more before picking up her leather journal, tossing the rock aside and began working on finishing her entry.

_I think we're approaching Georgia now. Far shot from home for sure._

Her words weren't on the same path as they had been before. She was no longer in the mood for sentiment and meaningful words.

The majority of her entries had been that way, starting off with meaning and ending with simple record keeping. Where she was and where she was going. Who she had come across, or how long it had been since her last human. And at last, her count; how many dead she had killed.

_It's going on day 45 since my last human interaction. If I am not mistaken that makes today day 74 since Global Outbreak. My concept of time was never the greatest, but I don't think I've skipped an entry yet. I'm glad that I have Thor and Beatrix with me. I fear I would have gone insane by now had it not been for them. _

_Alone was never something I did well, Gareth could tell you that if he were here. _

_I hope I am able to find him soon. I really miss my older brother. _

_Ironic how we were separated right before the fall. _

_I think I'm getting closer to where he should be though. _

_He was in Fort Benning last I heard, that was before communications went down. When there were actual "safe zones", those didn't stay safe for very long though. If I'm right I'm somewhere near Atlanta, but with all the turns off the main road I might be farther from that city than I think. Back roads aren't always labeled after all. But I managed to find what I think might be an interstate, not quite sure though. I plan on figuring it out come morning._

_It won't be long now until I know. I-_

A low growl made the girl look up, her pen still pressed to the pages, leaving a growing blotch of ink. Coming from the North was a group of about six walkers. She had kept her fire low, but sometimes even the low burning embers caught their attention in the increasing darkness of dawn. The woman made a face, closing the book, her pen caught between the pages. "You two going to get them?" she asked her companions already standing up and grabbing her bow. She had preferred her guns to the silent weapon in her hands but having been on the archery team throughout high school, she wasn't a stranger to the wooden instrument.

Thor and Beatrix went back to eating their respective catches knowing that their owner had everything under control, their ears still perked in attention however, cautious of the surrounding area.

The way the woman took care of the undead was quick and efficient. It had been such since the beginning. From the start she had known what to do to keep the undead down for good. It was in one of the last messages from her brother that she had learned that the only way to put the dead down was to destroy the brain. She had never been one for wasting time before the fall and she didn't feel compelled to start.

The way she moved as she drew back each arrow was methodical, and extremely repetitive. Her hands moved efficiently, kept steady as she notched each arrow and took aim. Her breathing remained calm, even as the individual undead creatures moved closer to the boundaries of her camp. It wasn't long before the last groaning undead stopped moving for good, falling to the ground in a heap. "Finish up," she called back to her companions as she placed down her bow and walked forward to retrieve her fallen arrows.

She was seldom one for missing but she had this time, twice; lodging a particularly beautiful arrow into a nearby tree and another had sailed over the group and laid unsoiled next to a bush 25 feet away. The cock feather standing out against the green grass. She looked at the first longingly, in her eyes it was ruined now. There was no way that she was going to be able to dislodge the arrow and keep in intake and usable. Not these arrows. It had been a while since she passed a store with new arrows. Bolts she had seen, but arrows… They were few and far between. None that she was finding, long enough for her bow. So, in result, she resorted to making them herself. Feathers were easier to come by. It only took one bird to give her enough feathers to make a decent amount of ammo.

She often found herself doing things now that in the past she had simply done for fun, or to fill time that was not being used by essential things. Wasting time wasn't an option even when the time was essentially free. She always found constructive ways to fill in the blanks of the day.

With a shake to her head, she retrieved her last arrow from rotting the eye of the twice dead corpse, making a face as the eye came out of the socket with it. Her nose twitched. "Well that's disgusting,"

Thor, finished with his meal moved over to the girl, arrow between his teeth, brushing against her leg to alert her of his silent presence. She looked down at the herder and smiled, taking the arrow from his grip and adding it to her pile on the ground. They'd have to be cleaned the next time she stumbled across any body of water.. "You two ready to head back to the highway?" Thor bowed his head and cradled the arrows between his sharp teeth, careful not to snap the hand carved and sharpened wood. The woman nodded to the dog before following him back into the safety of the overnight camp she had made.

Her original plan had been to stay the night, but having been fed; she wanted to get back on the road as soon as possible. She had left her car at the end of a clogged highway, far enough away from the actual block that if one were to stumble across the obstacle her car would be hit last. She would have heard vehicles approaching from the opposite direction, the direction that would have caused her car to be seen first. She was camped in that direction as it was; she just did not want to navigate the off-roader into the woods. The last time that had happened, she attracted too much attention from the reanimated.

The woman collapsed her camp quietly and quickly; her companions pacing the area to ensure that she was safe as she packed their supplies away. She had more supplies back at the vehicle and even more back home, if people hadn't found her stash that was. A part of her hoped that once she found her brother, the two of them would head home and bunker down at the farm. She doubted it though and sealed the bunker beneath her home. She had so little faith in returning that she had left the pasture gates open, leaving a way for the livestock to escape, the animals had a better chance of survival turning feral then they did staying penned up. All that meat in a concentrated area was a proverbial dinner bell for the undead.

Shouldering her pack she gave a low, high-pitched whistle, her dogs stopping in their track and dropping back on their hunches. Beatrix stood first and approached her trainer. Bending down, the woman secured the pack designed for canines atop of the female herder. Beatrix shifted her weight, testing the distribution and gave the woman a lick, letting her know that it was okay. The woman smiled and kissed her dog on the top of her head, between her two pointed ears, giving an affectionate scratch behind the right one before requesting Thor to approach.

The two dogs changed places and the process was repeated almost exactly the same, with the only difference being, the ear she scratched behind. She stood, quiver tucked safely into her pack, bow slung over her shoulder, and machete in hand. There was no need for her to check the guns strapped to her thighs, not having used them in weeks now.

With a few softly spoken words to her companions she headed back towards the direction in which she came earlier, heading back to her car, and ironically enough the direction that the walking dead had come from earlier. She hoped she didn't run into more, small herds like the one she had just encountered were almost always followed by larger ones. It wasn't clear to the woman as to why, but it seemed obvious enough to her that they had a pack like instinct.

She had her ideas of course. Perhaps it was the sound that made that made them follow one another. She had noticed that the creatures moved based of what they heard or smelt. Sight wasn't the main driving force behind what moved them.

She kept her steps light, making almost no sound as she walked through the woods. Growing up, her father had taught her to hunt and when her brother came back from the war, the young man then taught the woman to be even more silent than what she had learned from their father.

The path back to her pick-up was easy enough to remember. She moved through the forest with almost no thought on her destination. Her flashlight left in her pack so as to allow her eyes to adjust to the darkness that seemed to grow denser every passing moment.

With darkness settling over the area quickly, she felt comfortable moving towards the main road. She could see the moonlight reflecting off of the dashed lines that separated the lines of the highway, yet she stayed within the safety of the trees.

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**/AN:: BemusedKittyKat here! Follow me on Twitter bemusedkittykat for chapter update announcements! Hope you all enjoyed this first chapter and decide to stick around to see what else this fic has in store!**

**Don't be shy to leave any comments, all types of reviews are welcome, I am always open to seeing if people like, love, or hate what I'm writing.**

**Until next time-**


	2. Chapter 2 :: I Won't Hurt You

****Disclaimer:: I unfortunately do NOT own the Walking Dead of its characters. I do however own all non-Canon additions to this fic and some of the plot. **_**Loosely follows Canon but will deviate greatly from both the Comic and TV Series Plot.**_**

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**Chapter Two: I Won't Hurt You**

The sound of a child sobbing broke the woman out of her daze as she walked onward, almost at her vehicle. Two additional pairs of ears perked at the noise that broke the eerie silence that accompanied the end of the world.

Thor, having been trained as not only a military companion, guard dog and herder, but as a search-and-rescue canine in addition; he knew the sound of a lost and afraid child all too well. His current master looked at him and with his head to the side the former military dog raised a silent question. He knew, that she knew, that it was dangerous to follow human noises, but the child's sobs sounded fearful. Thor listened to his human let out a sigh, torn between discovering the source and continuing onward. His mate had stopped at this point as well, staring at their Master with the same questioning look on his own face.

"Track," was the single word that fell from the two legged's lips.

Thor tilted his head up and took a deep breath, catching the scent of fear and salt—tears, he knew them to be called, having heard the word fall from Gareth's (his true master's) lips before; he just equated the scent with the human's ability to leak bodily fluids from the face. He turned his head in the direction he was scenting the child, allowing his current human to know in which direction he would be heading.

His true Master's sister gave a nod, telling him it was okay to follow the scent and find the girl. Thor kept a slower pace, knowing that the human could easily loose him in these woods, but there was a clear urgency in his steps. As the sobs grew louder, the urgency behind the dog's steps became apparent as the girl's fear grew.

The woman came to a stop just a few feet from Thor, who too had stopped. Tangled in the branches of a tree, was a little girl, clutching her arms around herself, shaking, and her back braced against the large sturdy truck. Below her a small pack of undead; three sets of rotting arms reaching for the girl and narrowly missing. Animals were unaffected by the virus as far as the woman knew, but she wasn't about to risk it and dropped her pack and bow, telling both Thor and Beatrix to stand their ground with a silent hand signal. With her machete in hand she moved slowly towards the crowd of geeks.

There were many things that the woman referred to the undead as. She seemed to come up with a new name for them with each one she killed. "Zombie" had never been one of them. To the woman the word zombie held a different connotation, having studied the various religions and cultures in the world before returning home and taking over the family farm after had her parents' deaths. She and her brother had gone away to after high school; her attending Cornell University and her older brother, enlisting in the United States Army.

It wasn't hard to convince Gareth's superiors to allow him to bring in Thor, the dog already having received Police K-9 training since puppy years. Thor trained along his human and was even deployed for a tour across the ocean. Thor had taken a bullet to his flank half way through Gareth's first tour, ending the canine's own military career earlier than expected. His training after rehabilitation had come in handy on the farm, and in the small town the twins grew up in.

A twig snapped beneath the woman's foot, catching the attention of one of the undead. The human raised her machete ready to slice through the skull of the meandering rotting corpse. It picked up speed towards her as it realized that she was within reach—more so than the skinny girl up the tree.

Behind the woman, Thor and Beatrix rose to their feet, their bodies showing how alert they were to the surrounding area, ready at a moment's notice join the fight. Notoriously where there were a group of zombies, more were to follow. If the three had learned anything since the fall, undead tended to move in packs, following each other mindlessly.

The woman swung the machete with ease, slicing the undead's head clean in half, the top end of the skull and brain flying across the wooded area and into the truck of a particularly large tree. The threes seemed thicker here in Georgia than what the New Yorker was used to. Large sturdy trucks beneath layers and layers of branches, as I given hundreds of years to grow undisturbed.

She held back a cringe at the sight that the exploding brain matter had created. "Gross," she heard from in the tree.

The woman looked up and smiled at the little girl, glad that she was no longer shaking. There was less of a chance that she could fall from the tree in that case. "Are you bit?" she asked the little girl, drawing the attention of the undead to her, instead of the little girl. She waited for the girl to respond before returning her attention to the dead.

They came at her at the same time, one at a fraction of a second's pace slower than the other. It was almost undetectable but the ever observant woman saw the difference, quickly dispatching the closer one. She used that second's time between the two geeks to her advantage. Yanking out her machete just in time to implant it into the skull of the gasping undead. It's arms that had been reaching towards her falling limply to its sides as the body hung suspended merely by the connection of the bladed weapon. Bringing her foot up to the dead's chest she pushed at the same time as she pulled, dislodging the weapon from the head of the creature. It made almost no sound as it crumpled to the ground in a rotting heap.

The woman moved slowly towards the little girl, still strung up in the tree, her companions hanging back a few feet, pacing the general area, ensuring their master's safety.

"Do you need help getting down sweetie?" the woman asked, her eyes scanning the exposed skin of the girl. She was covered almost head to toe in coagulated blood, her hair matted and falling from her pony tail. The woman noted the torn fabric of bother her shirt and pants but noticed no signs of human blood. No the blood of the undead was dark, darker than red, almost black really and the way that the moonlight reflected off of undead blood was different than the way it glinted off of living blood.

The little girl shook her head. "Who are you?" she stuttered out.

The woman sighed as she watched the girl carefully. She needed the child out of the tree so she could properly look her over. "Devereux," she said automatically stating her last name. Her lack of trust had been built during the early days of Global Outbreak. It wasn't as she didn't trust the little girl, to be honest, children were probably all you could trust in this world. She just wanted to hold onto her name for as long as she could.

"Ms. Debero," the girl repeated, pronouncing the woman's last name wrong.

The woman couldn't help but smile as she shook her head. "You can call me Dev, sweetheart. Or whatever you'd like to call me really," she said softly moving closer to the tree with every word she said. Her machete was re-sheathed against her back.

"Are you an angel?" the little girl asked leaning a bit from her branch.

"No."

The girl shook her head, almost as if not believing the woman. "I think you are. Momma always told me that if I was ever scared and I prayed hard enough, God would send me down an angel to keep me company… to keep me safe."

The woman couldn't help but sigh at this. Religion had never been a strong point for her. She had studied several over the years, but none had ever stuck to her. No theory or faith ever fit how she viewed the world. He brother had teased her, said that she could build her own church with her elaborate beliefs. "I'm not an angel sweetie."

"I think you are," she whispered.

The woman nodded. "Then perhaps I am one without even knowing it. Could that be possible sweetie?"

The little girl seemed to think the woman's words over for a minute. "I think so," she said softly. "Maybe God, made you forget you were one of his so that you'd do your good deeds on your own. Momma called that free will. Said that no matter what I always had a choice even if she didn't. She said that when Papa would drink too much. Momma would stay home and send me to Aunt Vicki's house. I never much liked when Momma tried to hide it from me, but I knew…" the little girl trailed off. It was almost as if she were babbling to herself.

The woman listened closely. If she was gathering correctly, the girl's father had been abusive. She had seen it before, what abuse did to children. It didn't even have to be that they were the ones being hit, just seeing one parent getting thrown around was enough to scare a child for the rest of their life. Devereux let out a long sigh, almost in sadness. "Will you come down sweetie?" There was a pause. "What is your name, little one?"

"Are they dead?" the little girl said looking down at the undead at her feet.

The woman looked over at the fallen corpses and nodded before she spoke. "They are sweetie… Please come out of that tree. I have clothes back at my truck that you can change into. It must be really gross sitting in those stinky clothes with all that dirt and blood all over it."

The little blond looked like she was thinking over her options. "Do you have water? I'm awfully thirsty," she said as she moved slowly, deliberately buying herself time. Thor looked over to her master from where he sat in the distance. He could sense the distrust in the little girl, almost as if she didn't know if she could trust his now Master.

He let out a low sound, one unheard by both humans signaling to Beatrix that she should move in towards their Master. Perhaps the presence of the dog would coax the girl from the tree. If the police dog knew anything about children it was that they trusted pets much more than they trusted other humans when they were scared.

Beatrix moved with deliberate steps, taking care to make noise as not to startle the little girl in the tree. The girl looked to sounds made by the dog, unsure what to make of the pure black canine at first.

"Is she yours?" the girl asked. She was still yet to give the ex-farmer her name.

The dark haired woman nodded. "She is," she said slowly, bending briefly to scratch Beatrix behind her ear. "Would you like to come down and pet her?"

The girl nodded and with careful steps climbed down though the branches of the tree to join the woman and her companions on the ground. There was a subtle signal given to Beatrix by the woman and the dog bounded over to the girl enthusiastically, dropping back on her flanks and cocking her head to the side.

Beatrix sat still as the blood covered child reached out and ran her fingers through her long think fur. "Hey girl," the girl whispered, drawing comfort from the canine. After a few moments she looked up at the woman she decided she would now call 'Angel'.

"My name is Sophia."

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**/AN:: Hello there readers! I hope you are enjoying this fic. **

**I have decided to add this story into Tuesday of my update rotation. Don't forget to follow me on Twitter ( bemusedkittykat) to receive more direct update announcements and such in relation to this fic and my others (that will eventually be posted here).**

**Happy reading!**


	3. Chapter 3 :: Fort Benning

Disclaimer:: I unfortunately do NOT own "The Walking Dead" or any of its character. I do however own all non-Canon additions to this fic and some of the plot. _This fanfic will loosely follow Canon but sill deviate greatly from both the Comic and TV Series Plot. Eventually becomes AU from the deviations but stay in the ZA universe._

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**Chapter 3: Fort Benning**

_Two Weeks and Five Days After Outbreak_

Gareth looked down at his phone. Nine letters blinked across the screen every half a second causing him to sigh.

_No Service_

He had been in the middle of a call with his sister when the line had gone dead. His last words to her had been orders. He had instructed her to pack up the house, lock the doors tight, load the dogs into the pick-up, find his son and get to Fort Benning—where he was stationed. He knew that it had been a lot to ask his baby sister, but he didn't have many options. The four things he cared about the most in his life were in New York and he couldn't exactly abandon his post to go and retrieve them. He had a team to lead. He had orders. Sure, shit hit the fan and this virus was taking over every dead, or rather not-so-dead, human and turning them into cannibals. But that didn't mean he could abandon his duties to his country. He still had a commanding officer relaying him orders. Gareth still had a team of fourteen men to lead and another group of thirty-eight to oversee.

During the first few days, teams had been sent out to various places across the country. The Commanding officer had been lucky. He and his team had been selected to guard the safe zone that the army had created for government officials right there on the Army Base. The Safe Zone had been a stop however. It wasn't safe to keep important officials all in one place.

"Devereux, you copy?" a voice questioned from his pocket.

Gareth sighed before taking the walkie out of his pocket. "Reading you loud and clear, Franklin. What is the status on those helos?"

There was a short wave of static before the same voice broke through again. "About 10 minutes out. What's the ground looking like?"

Gareth looked out of the tower window he had been unknowingly pacing in front of just moments ago. He brought the walkie back up to his mouth. "Maybe half a hundred geeks at the South Gate and another couple dozen playing in the East Field."

There was a pause before Gareth heard laughter over the communications system. "Since when do they play?" Franklin snorted.

Gareth shook his head with a smile on his face. "What else do you want me to call it? They're chasing random ass critters around the grass." Franklin's laughter could be heard as someone near him asked who was winning. Gareth ignored the question and continued looking out over the surrounding area. "How many crafts are they sending again?"

It was a new voice that answered this time. "Westley said that they are sending two Chinooks and a standard Helo. Something about loss of planes back at initial outbreak. Didn't you pay attention in the briefing Commander?"

Gareth sighed before responding to his fellow Officer. "Of course I paid attention. The numbers just slipped my mind…" he trailed off. "Besides I was a little preoccupied by the fact that he told me that he was sending half my men on the chopper without me." That was half true of course. Ever since communications went down, Gareth's family was constantly on his mind. He was worried about his sister and his son of course. On top of the two most important humans in his life, he was worried about his former partner, Thor. His best four-legged friend lived with his sister now that he was once again stationed so far from home. It was impossible for the canine to return to work after his last injury.

_Honorably Discharged._

Even after he recovered, being military again was never going to be an option for that dog. He made a good ranch hand though. And Gareth was sure that the dog was enjoying retirement alongside his mate, Beatrix.

"Awe," a voice cooed over the walkies. "We're gonna miss you too Gare-bear."

Gareth stared at his own walkie for a long moment. "Franklin," he said slowly. He was mildly appalled by what was just said. "You make me want to take it back Franklin. I really don't think that I am going to miss you after that one." Laughter was heard through the army base, and the Commander didn't need his walkie to hear the majority of the soldiers on the property laughing.

Frankin's voice chimed back over the channel. "Awe man, Commander. You wound me. However, will I move on?"

Without missing a beat Gareth responded to one of his team. "Go get laid at the next stop. I hear that does wonders for a broken heart." It was Gareth's turn to laugh as he watched the perimeter of the base from his tower. He looked over at the man sharing the watch shift with him to see the over Officer giving him a thumbs up.

"No one is getting laid at the next stop!" an angry voice crackled through the small speaker in the man's hand. "No more of this talk. The choppers will be her in any moment and the last thing I need is all my men laughing at some stupid sexed up jokes. That landing area better be cleared when I walk outside in two minutes. If not there will be hell to pay."

Gareth shook his head at Westley's words. "In what the form of push-ups? We're already in hell. Not like Westley noticed that detail, what with being cooped up in that Office all time."

"Don't let him hear you say that, Devereux," the man in the tower with him said with a grin on his face.

Gareth shrugged. "Westley and I are the same rank. Majors. He's lucky I don't report him for being a lazy piece of shit. That man wouldn't know how to lead a group of Rangers to save his life. This is why I get to stay behind and his ass gets to leave. Between civilians, troops and medical, personnel we are dropping from one-fifty-four to thirty-six."

The Ranger beside him laughed. "I always knew there was a reason behind why I liked you Devereux." The man put down his rifle, resting it against the wall. He wasn't quite sure what the point was to the guns. It wasn't exactly like he was supposed to fire them off and shoot down geeks while he was up here. "And before you say anything, no, it doesn't have anything to do with the fact that you are really good at setting up a guy on blind dates with pretty girls."

Gareth sighed. "Way to not mention the fact that I have saved your ass more times than I can count in the last two weeks. Thanks man," he sighed before picking up a piece of chalk from the ground and chucking it at the younger recruit. He leant against the rock structure before sliding down and taking a seat on the stone floor. "Why in the world do you lot doodle in the tower like a group of elementary school girls?" He found another piece of chalk on the ground and threw it at the man again, this time hitting him square in the chest. The Ranger hadn't stopped laughing since the first one bounced off his toe.

There was something oddly, welcome, about the sight of the older man throwing chalk at his fellow teammate. Gareth was the highest in the command chair for his men, his commanding officer had been bit only a few days in. The man had been a bit too noble. Had wanted to save everyone. Unfortunately, that wasn't exactly an option.

There had been a breech one of their first days after outbreak. The place was secure, of course, it was a military establishment after all. But things had been so chaotic. The virus was something that these men and women couldn't explain. In the beginning the majority of the men and women stationed here were sent out to help towns and cities. Many units had been sent to Atlanta to help secure the city. The four Ranger units stationed at Benning had not been one of those units sent to Atlanta. In fact, there was now only one unit of Rangers at the Fort, and the group was a mixed bunch, a mixture of three teams. Gareth's original group of nine and the rest, the surviving bunch from the two teams that returned via road vehicles to Benning. No one had heard from the group that was told to fly out and secure a hospital just outside of Atlanta. In the back of his mind, the Ranger hoped that the men had either made it out in one piece or died quickly. The highest ranking officers stationed at Benning fell victim to all of this. The one, having gone to the hospital to never return and the other, bit right here in the base's living quarters.

A soldier had returned, scratched of all things. It wasn't really known that a scratch could infect the victim if bad enough. And to top it all off, it of course was more than a simply scratch. The soldier had come back to Benning complaining that he had been shot through the shoulder. In reality, a geek had stabbed him in the shoulder with what had remained of the creature's arm. This detail wasn't found out until much later, when one of the soldier's teammate's woke up in the infirmary, three days after the man turned. By then it had been too late.

Upon passing in his sleep from a fever from the infection, the man had turned and proceeded to attack his roommates and other people bunking in the same residential unit as himself. By the time things got back under control, Gareth's boss has been bit and over fifteen men had become infected—and that didn't include the amount of soldiers that were eaten before the last of the geeks were put down for good in that area. It had been a sad day. There was no cure so it was left up to those who were bit. Be put down before there was a chance to turn, or be used for purposes of research. In fact, the General was still on base.

Gareth casted a look in the direction of the building that held those whom had turned, those that were being used for study. The lower level grunts didn't know about what was going on in that building. All they knew was that it was beyond their level of clearance and that they were not allowed anywhere near it, even when on patrol. The research building was off limits to all personnel besides officers and well, researchers.

"Incoming!" a voice shouted over the walkie, shaking Gareth from his own thoughts. He shot to his feet and grabbed his own rifle from against the well. Using the scope, he peered into the sky, watching the first Chinook hit the ground. He sighed before lowering his weapon.

"Stay up here," he ordered the man that was now focused on once again watching the geeks. He slung his rifle over his shoulder before heading for the steps. He had soldiers and supplies to load onto choppers, and an annoying Major to say his good-byes too, and for some reason, even though, the world was crashing down around him, he couldn't be happier.

* * *

**/AN:: _I'M BACK!_ I am so so so sorry for disappearing. Unfortunately life has not been kind to me lately but I have decided with it being 2016 that I would try to better _myself, _do things that make me _happy_. And lucky for anyone that enjoys this story, one of the things that make me happy is writing. I will be attempting to post a chapter every week, either Friday or Saturday. I know have a Beta Reader of sorts that will be reading my chapters before I press the send button. My boyfriend [though not a Walking Dead fan] has been so generous in agreeing to read and edit all of my work that I do for here [yes, Harry Potter too, and no he is not a fan of that one either]. Anyway just wanted to let everyone know that I am back. Feel free to PM me here or leave a review to let me know what you think. Did a flashback character of sorts, to get back into the swing of writing. Don't worry we will be back on the road with our "nameless" heroine and Sophia in the next chapter! **

**Much Love xxoo**

**-Kat**


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